


Designated Driver

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #DrunkKissesChallenge, Crack, Hannibal is loving every second of this, M/M, SLAP FIGHT, Will decides to stake a claim, while drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham, too much booze, and a slap fight. I think that's all you need to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Designated Driver

 “Jimmy Price is a goddamn slut.”

         “K, couple things,” Bev reached over and grabbed the whiskey from Will’s hand, signaling the bartender. “First, he’s cut off, ok?”

         The bartender nodded, taking the drink.

         “Hey! Two more fin-bers of whiskey please.”

         The bartender sighed and walked away from Will. That was rude, Will had been whatshisname’s loyal companion all evening.

         Beverly wrapped her fingers around Will’s chin, yanking his focus back.

         “Second. We don’t say slut, it’s sexist.” Will bobbed his head. “And third, He’s flirting with Hannibal, what do you care? Jack told me you think the Ripper is Hannibal, right?”

         “It’s dangerous. No one should be near him.”

         “So you’re looking out for Jimmy? That’s why you’re in the corner, drinking and watching Hannibal all night?”

         “I’m just keeping an eye on him.”

         “Yeah, I can see that.” Bev patted Will on the arm. “You are doing an excellent job of watching Hannibal’s ass, I feel very safe.”

         Will rolled his eyes and turned back to the bar. He signaled for another round. The bartender pointedly put a bottle of water in front of him. Will harrumphed before spinning to glare daggers at Jimmy again.

         “Heeeeey, Doctor Lecter,” Price rested a hand on Hannibal’s shirt. “You got a little something on your face.”

         Hannibal straightened and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it aloft.

         “Do I, Mr. Price? Where?”

         “Here!”

         Jimmy took that moment to latch onto Hannibal’s lips, hands sinking into the neatly coiffed hair. Hannibal froze and allowed his face to be devoured, Jimmy licking and sucking at his closed lips and mouthing at his chin.

         “Ok,” Bev shrugged, “I’m going to give it to you. That was pretty slutty…Will?”

         He was gone, stalking toward Price who was still investigating Hannibal with his tongue. Beverly paused for a moment, then shrugged. She took out her Android and started to film, following Will’s weaving trail through the crowd.

         Everyone else in the room seemed to be paralyzed. Even Jack was shocked into a fugue, blinking slowly at the mauling.  

         “Don’t you touch him!” Will had Jimmy’s collar snared in liquor loose fingers, shaking the scientist like a naughty puppy. Hannibal, dabbing at his face with his handkerchief cocked his head slightly at the confrontation.  

         “Gedoff!” Jimmy flailed and Will stumbled back as he avoided a hand. His unsteady feet tumbled him directly into Hannibal’s chest. The psychiatrist looked down at him and smiled.

         “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of this.” Will’s hand came up to pat Hannibal’s cheek. Unfortunately, Will’s whiskey addled brain misjudged the caress and he slapped Hannibal hard with a loose palm. The older man’s head snapped back slightly, but Will compensated for the rough touch by trying to fix Hannibal’s mussed hair. Thick fingers yanked Hannibal’s head back again and again as Will tried to repair Hannibal’s signature coif. Hannibal took the abuse with a small smile playing at his lips.

         “Why how come you get to touch Dr. Sexy Lips? I was kissing him first!” Jimmy had finally found his feet and was stumbling back toward Will.

         “He’s my psychiatrist! Not yours! Mine!” Will nodded as if the argument was over.

         “You don’t even like him! You said he ate people!”

         Will rounded on Jimmy and poked him in the chest.

         “Yeah, well, he might. But he makes me soup when I’m sick. Did he make you soup? Nooooo.”

         Jimmy slapped at Will’s finger, still digging into his chest.

         “I’ll kiss all your psychiatrists if I want to!”

         Will shoved him back.

         “You leave him alone or I’ll tell him to eat you.” Will shook his head for a moment to clear it. “And not in the sex way! In the bad way.”

         He turned to Hannibal.

         “You should eat him. He’s rude.”

         Hannibal lofted an eyebrow at the staggering empath. Jimmy chose that moment to smack Will hard on the back, whirling him around. Will lunged at his attacker, flailing his limbs in a windmill fashion, connecting limply with Jimmy.

         “Jesus H…is this a slap fight?” Zeller asked Bev, who was busy framing the altercation in her phone. Will turned to Zeller, face scrunched.

         “It’s a duel for Hanniful’s hono- _OW!_ ” Jimmy cut off Will’s explanation when he connected solidly with Will’s hand, a loud SMACK filling the room,. Will dodged the next swat to his face and started kicking as his arms thrashed.

         “For the love of Christ, you’ve both had defense training! Someone throw a goddamn punch and stop sissy swatting!”

         The whole of the party turned to look at Jack, except for Jimmy and Will who continued their battle. Jack cleared his throat.

         “I mean, Gentlemen, stop.” Beside him, Bella rolled her eyes.

         Bev snorted. She jumped slightly when she felt a hand at her waist. She looked up to see Hannibal, gently moving her to the left.

         “I think you’ll find the angle is better here, Ms. Katz.”

         Beverly checked her screen and beamed.

         “Thanks Dr. Lecter!” She held the camera steady and risked a glance at Hannibal. “Who do you think is going to win your hand?”

         “It’s hard to determine. Will has the reach while Jimmy seems to have more force behind his blows. I suppose it will come down to -”

         “OOOOOOW! No fucking biting Will!”

         “-who wants the victory more.”

         Hannibal leaned down, closer to Beverly’s ear.

         "Ms Katz, could I trouble you to send a copy of that to me? Here’s my number.“ He offered her a creamy vellum card.

         “Sure thing,” she shoved the card in her pocket. “I’m live streaming now, so I’ll text you the link in the morning, ok?”

         Hannibal nodded.

         “If you’ll excuse me, I believe someone should step in before one of them breaks a nail. Mr. Zeller? Will you assist me?”

         Hannibal and Zeller waded into the fray. One of Will’s wild kicks landed on Zeller’s knee, crumpling him to the floor. He latched on to Jimmy’s leg, hoping the dead weight would stop him. Hannibal dodged an elbow and a few vicious slashes before grabbing Will’s shirt firmly and jerking it backward. The cheap material immediately rended, buttons flying. Will froze at the sudden exposure covering his nipples with his hands and turning to face Hannibal with a frown. 

         “Not now! I’m defending you!”

         “And you’ve done admirably, Will.” Hannibal slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Will’s shoulders, his fingers skimming down the empath’s bare chest as he settled the material in place. “But now that you’ve proven yourself my staunch defender, perhaps it’s time you go home.”

         “OK, but I think I should maybe have some water before I drive.”

         “I’ll be happy to take you home, Will.” Hannibal turned toward Jack. “As always, Jack, you throw the most fascinating office parties. Thank you for inviting me. Shall we, Will?”

         Will beamed before turning to Jimmy who was still flailing, even as Zeller pinned his leg to the ground.

         "OOOOH! LOOK WHO HE’S GOING HOME WITH, PRICE!” Will stuck his tongue out as Hannibal guided him out of the room. Bev made sure to get a close up of Will’s hand, firmly grabbing Hannibal’s ass, as they left. 

         “Did I seriously lose to Graham?” Price had stopped flailing, rocking slightly as he looked at their retreating forms.

         “Yeah, ya did, buddy.” Zeller huffed from the floor.

         “But he’s so tiny!”

                                                  

* * *

         Hannibal reminded himself that he liked Will Graham. It was hard to remember at the moment. For the better part of an hour, he had been treated to a reenactment of the Epic Battle for Hannibal Lecter. Keeping his eyes on the road, Hannibal tried to tune out the twitchy little man next to him.

         Sometimes, his feelings for Will were extremely inconvenient.

         “And I was all _nu-uh, he’s mine,_ and he was all _whatever bitch_ , and I was like _don’t fuck with my Honeybull wait, uh Hanni-bull!_ And then I was like _pow! Bam! Fuc-sha!_ ” Will whipped his hands around, limbs still covered in the fine fabric of Hannibal’s custom wool jacket. 

         Hannibal made a small noise in his throat. He tried to focus on how good Will looked in his clothing.

         “RIGHT? I mean nobody messes with my-” Will paused. “My…What are you Hanni?”

         Hannibal drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

         “At the moment, I’m a concerned friend and your ride.”

         “Yeah you are! Hey! I should tell Jimmy you’re my ride!” He slapped Hannibal’s shoulder. “You know, cause he’d think we’re fucking!”

         “Will, do you want me to be your ride?”

         “I mean, I’ve thought about it.” Hannibal had trouble keeping his eyes on the road. “Not much, I mean you’re kinda a dick. But like a hot dick?” 

         Will sighed.

         “Do you still dream about killing me with your hands?”

         “Killing you, fucking you, I jerk off to weird shit sometimes. HEY LOOK A DOG.”

         “WILL! CLOSE THE DOOR WE ARE ON THE HIGHWAY!” Hannibal made a snatch for the profiler who tried to fling the door open. Wrenching Will back into his seat, the car weaving dangerously. “It was a bag of trash, Will. Now please close the door.”

         “ _It was a bag of trash Will…_ like I don’t know a dog when I see it,” Will grumbled, sinking down in his seat.

         Will pouted and Hannibal drove the rest of the way in blissful silence. When he pulled into Will’s drive, Hannibal turned to Will and placed a hand on his thigh.

         “Will you be alright alone?”

         “I don’t know, will I?” Will tried to waggle his eyebrows, but his motor skills had been severely impaired. Instead, his head bobbled as he pursed his lips.

         Hannibal sighed.

         “A simple thank you will suffice, Will.” He looked at Will’s mouth. “I’m sure Mr. Price would offer me a thank you.”

         The empath nodded, looking serious.

         “You’re right, simple is good.” Will unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned forward, collapsing face first on Hannibal’s crotch. Hannibal stared down at the curly head, mouth slightly open.

         A muffled voice floated up from Hannibal’s lap.

         “One sec, I got this.” Fingers were fumbling with Hannibal’s belt buckle.

         Hannibal grabbed at Will, forcing the profiler upright.

         "NO! No William! I meant a kiss!“

         "This is a kiss. It’s a dick kiss.” Will started down again. Hannibal held firm.

         "You are too inebriated to be doing that, a kiss on the lips will suffice. Please remove your hand from my fly.“

         Will scoffed.

         "Fine, Prudibal Lecter.”

         “You’re being rude.”

         “You’re being a tease.”

         Hannibal adjusted his grip on Will, pulling the empath to his chest. Will gasped and Hannibal used the opportunity to plunder Will’s mouth. Will tasted like cheap whiskey, but he sucked enthusiastically on Hannibal’s tongue. Another shift and Hannibal watched as Will tried to climb onto his lap.

         “Will-”

          _ **BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM**_

         “Stop yelling!” Will shouted. He was sitting on the horn. Hannibal had a very bad headache. He shoved Will to the side, dislodging the empath’s perky ass from the steering wheel.

         “Oh that’s better.” Will paused. “Hey, my dogs are barking, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

         And then he was gone.

         Hannibal stared at his half hard dick and wondered what the fuck just happened.

                                                     

* * *

         Will cracked an eye open and instantly regretted the decision. He was on his bed, he could see Buster’s little black nose as it snuffled along the edge of the bed. Also, he might be dying.

         Everything ached. Everything smelled like Hannibal.

         Will’s breath caught.

         Why the fuck did everything smell like Hannibal? He looked at the other side of the bed. Winston wagged his tail. He craned his head toward the kitchen. No one.

         Will sat up. That’s when he noticed the jacket. Soft wool, odd pattern – Hannibal. Why was he waking up in nothing but Hannibal Lecter’s jacket and his underwear?

         His phone was blinking on the night stand. Fifteen text notifications were never a good sign.

         Will blinked and tried to remember how to read.

Well, Fuck.

         He sunk into the jacket, the smell oddly soothing. Will clicked the link. Bev had edited the footage to the theme from _Rocky_. He supposed the romance with the video tech guy she mentioned a few months ago was still on. Each blow that landed triggered a comic graphic _Pow! Bam! Boom!_ When Hannibal intervened in the fight, the theme from _The Bodyguard_ kicked in, and Will laughed. He watched Hannibal carefully wrap the jacket around him and felt a smile curl around his mouth. The last shot was a tight close-up of Hannibal’s ass, with Will’s hand gripping it – a heart forming around the image.         

         Bits and pieces of the night before came back to him. The flood of anger when he saw Jimmy with Hannibal. The sting of a slap connecting with his head. Hannibal’s hands as he settled the jacket around Will’s shoulders. The taste of Hannibal’s tongue. The feel of Hannibal’s cock on his nose.

         Oh no.

         Will buried his face in the jacket. Hannibal’s smell surrounded him. He balked, shoving the jacket off his shoulders and tossing it at Buster. He accused Hannibal of being the Chesapeake Ripper. He had tried to have him killed. He had tried to suck his cock.

One of these things was not like the other.

         And yet…

         Hannibal had driven him home and hadn’t eaten him. Hannibal had taken care of him. Jack hadn’t. Alana hadn’t. Shit, even Bev had abandoned him to edit the world’s most embarrassing fight into something that his goddamn students would no doubt be sniggering over Monday morning.

         Shit, Hannibal was the only one that checked to make sure he was ok. He hadn’t really asked for anything, just wanted to make sure Will was feeling well. It might have been the hangover talking, but Will suddenly couldn’t remember why he didn’t eat the rude.

         He stood, his head and gut protesting, and walked over to Buster.

         “Sorry, bud, I’m going to need that back.” He yanked the coat out from under the dog, Buster directing an annoyed sneeze at Will for being dislodged, and wrapped it around his shoulders. It smelled like Hannibal and dog.

         Would life really be that bad with Hannibal? Fine meals, interesting conversation, a chance to finally stop hiding from the monster that lurked just beneath Will’s surface. Sure, they’d have to work on the dog thing, but every relationship had problems. 

         Will poured himself a whiskey, just a finger this time, popped some aspirin, and picked up his phone.

         “Will! How nice to hear from you. Are you well?”

         "Hannibal, I need a ride.“ Will poked at the ice cube in his whiskey. He brought his finger to his lips to suck the vestiges of the liquor from the pad.

         "Will, you’re calling from your home number.”

         "So I am.“ Will let his voice drop. “But I could still use a ride.”

         He dropped the phone into the cradle and relaxed into his chair, he had at least an hour before Hannibal showed up. 

         There was a knock at the door in thirty minutes. Will opened it. Hannibal shoved inside panting like he’d run the whole way.

         "Jesus, how did you make it here so fast? Did you drive here from Baltimore?”

         Hannibal was on him, shoving him against the door and taking his mouth. Will suddenly didn’t give a fuck how Hannibal had arrived. He moaned when Hannibal pulled back.

         "Traffic was good, and the nice officer let me off with a warning after I explained I had an emergency medical call.” Another kiss. “You taste of whiskey, please tell me you’re sober.”

         Hannibal was pulling at Will’s eyelids, checking his pupils for response to light.

         "I-I barely had a chance to finish my first drink, I thought I had more time.“

         "Yes, well, you don’t. You’re sure you’re sober?”

         “Want me to walk a straight line?”

         “Yes, to there.” Hannibal pointed to Will’s bed. 

         Will laughed and pulled Hannibal toward him. He sucked on the older man’s upper lip. Hannibal pushed Will back to the door, breathing hard, maroon eyes sparking.

         “What changed your mind?”

         “About what?”

         “You don’t believe me to be the Ripper anymore?”

         “Oh that,” Will backed away walking a straight line slowly to his bed. “I know you’re the Ripper, Hannibal.”

         Will shimmied out of his boxers, leaving him in nothing but Hannibal’s jacket. The cannibal took an involuntary step forward before stilling.

         “I just don’t fucking care.”

         Hannibal sighed.

         “You’re still drunk.”

         “I’m sober.” Will popped the first button on the jacket and raised an eyebrow. “I’m just tired of pretending.”

         Hannibal’s eyes were fixated on the jacket’s last button. Will pulled at it, teasing it back and forth through the whole.

         “What were you pretending Will?”

         “That killing Garret Jacob Hobbs wasn’t fun. That I mind the type of meat you serve at your table. That I’m the kind of man who Alana, Jack, and all the others hope I am.”

         “What kind of man are you, Will?”

         Will let Hannibal’s jacket fall to the ground.

         “I already told you. I’m a man in need of a ride.”

 


End file.
